


Scars

by prescellphone



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 09:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4870969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prescellphone/pseuds/prescellphone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3 times when Gaby views Illya's scars</p>
<p>Music: Touch by Shura and Desire by Years and Years</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how hypothermia works, so sorry for the inaccuracy

* * *

 

       The first time Gaby saw Illya without a shirt on, she had been drunk and scheming. They were on yet another mission where him and her were pretending to be engaged. At some point, they had grown so used to the idea of sleeping in beds next to each other that when Waverly even suggested Gaby being engaged to Solo instead, both of them were adamant against it. Illya claimed it was easier than switching all of their duties. Gaby just flat out refused with red cheeks. Waverly and Napoleon had exchanged looks with small smiles, before agreeing with them. So the idea of sharing a room and bathroom was not a problem until Gaby got drunk.

       Now, Illya knows how “hands on” Gaby gets when she’s intoxicated (he thinks back on their first wrestling match), so he always secludes himself in the bathroom when he changes. It’s for her own good and for his. He’s not entirely sure he would be able to stop himself if Gaby got her hands on him while he is half-naked.

       So just like every other night, intoxicated Gaby watched with her huge sunglasses as Illya made his trek into the bathroom. Smiling to herself, she grabbed the vodka bottle in front of her, took two huge shots off it, and stumbled over to the radio, flipping it on and turning the music up.

       Illya heard the loud music clearly through the bathroom door and rolled his eyes.

       Dancing to the music with her hand tight around the bottle, Gaby spotted Illya’s chessboard and made her way to it. She realized as she fell into the chair, that she had probably had a bit too much to drink, but by then, she was already taking another sip from the bottle. Smiling to herself, she stared at the chessboard, which had a game half played sitting on it. She knew exactly what would infuriate Illya and maybe get him to wrestle with her again. Grabbing a single piece from the board, she tucked it into her bra and drank some more vodka. It was a mistake. The alcohol seemed to hit all of the wrong places in her stomach and without thinking, she was running to the bathroom.

       Illya heard a bottle crash outside the door and merely grumbled to himself as he reached for his shirt. Before he could react, the bathroom door was thrown open and Gaby was flying past him to get to the toilet. Illya reached for the handgun sitting on the counter but put it down after hearing the insides of Gaby’s stomach hit the water. After a few heaves, Gaby wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked up to see Illya staring back down at her in concern. Her eyes met his before they trailed down along his bare chest. She barely remembered much except two thoughts. One: ‘ _Wow, Illya is in shape’_. Two: ‘ _Too many scars’_. Illya followed her gaze and quickly pulled his shirt over his head. His face was red and he wouldn’t meet her eyes, until a soft sound hit the bathroom floor. Both of them looked down to see a knight piece lying in Gaby’s lap.

* * *

 

       The second time Gaby saw Illya’s scar-filled but muscular upper-body, they were on a mission in Canada.

       “We’re going to have to cross!”

       Napoleon was already grabbing Gaby’s waist and lifting her up before Illya could protest against it. His heart clenched tightly as he watched Napoleon give Gaby a huge shove across the large sheet of ice while Gaby screamed foul words. She hit the other side of the small pond and climbed up onto the solid ground.

       “Fuck you Napoleon!” Gaby stomped her feet angrily.

       “That wasn’t safe, Cowboy. She could’ve fallen through.” Illya growled at Napoleon.

       More shouts behind them. They were a lot closer than before.

       “We have no other choice and Gaby is first priority, right?” Napoleon smirked knowingly at Illya and threw himself across the ice. He slid fast, but unlike Gaby, cracks formed behind him. Gaby helped him up off the ice and abruptly slapped him. Illya could hear the smack from across the pond and he winced for Solo. He heard the dogs sniffing around in the brush behind him now and the shouts were probably less than 100 m away. Gaby and Napoleon waved their arms wildly. Cursing in Russian, Illya threw himself across the ice right when the dogs reached the bank of the pond. With a rush, he watched the other side of the pond come closer and closer before the ice broke two feet from the bank.

       The ice water immediately froze his mind as he struggled to grab onto the edge of the hole. He could faintly hear Gaby screaming his name in terror and the dogs barking madly. He watched as a hand grabbed his and pulled him halfway out of the water. Gunshots rang out around him while Napoleon’s stretched out body yanked him towards the edge.

       “We need to go now!” Gaby’s voice was strained as she helped Illya onto the ground. Napoleon stood up, nodding furiously. They both threw Illya’s shaking arms over their shoulders and stumbled their way to the safe house 2 miles away.

       They made the distance in record time considering Illya’s weight and pulled the door open to the underground house. Napoleon half-carried/half-dropped Illya down the ladder as Gaby shut and locked the door.

       “Fuck, Cowboy.” Illya groaned as he shook uncontrollably on the floor. Ignoring him, Napoleon began stripping the clothes off of Illya.

       Pointing at Gaby, Napoleon ordered, “Clothes off. Now.”

       “What?! Why me?” Gaby’s face lit up four shades of red.

       “I’m going back out to cover our tracks. Honestly, I would totally cuddle with Peril if I had the chance, but you are a better candidate.” Smiling at Gaby’s expression, Napoleon pulled Illya’s pants off before standing and climbing back up the ladder. Glaring at Napoleon’s back, Gaby stripped her clothes down to her underwear, which she was embarrassed to find was not her best lingerie.

       Illya’s eyes were shut as she carried him over to one of the three twin beds. Gaby grabbed all the blankets that she could find, fell onto the bed next to Illya, pulled him close to her, and threw the blankets over them. His shivers practically shook her entire body, but she calmly wrapped her arms around his waist and shoved her face into his damp neck. Gaby tangled her legs with his while pulling the blankets up and over their heads. Too cold to open his eyes, Illya curled his head down to press his face against Gaby’s hair. Despite the warmth of Gaby’s body, Illya was surprised that his embarrassment didn’t keep him warm. He was already scolding himself for everything and trying to ignore Gaby’s soft skin pressed to his. As he warmed gradually, his thoughts swarmed around the spot on his neck where he could feel Gaby’s breath hit evenly. His shivers started to slow after a few minutes and he felt Gaby shift next to him.

       “Doing better?” Her voice was too close for comfort and he felt her lips just barely brush his skin. He nodded in answer.

      Gaby was slowly melting as she felt his head nod. The light from the safe house filtered through the blankets and she could barely make out the scars littered across Illya’s chest. Her hands could also feel the bumpiness of past wounds on his back. Gaby felt Illya’s pulse speed up when she shifted lower to look at his scars. She brought her arm back over his side and traced some of the curves with a finger.

       “Are these all from KGB?” Gaby whispered into his skin. Her finger continued to rub one particular large spot right underneath his collarbone. Illya didn’t answer for a few seconds.

       “No.” Gaby waited for more. He obliged. “Some are from men that went after my mother. Some are from fights I got in. Some are from when I wreck things.”

       Illya was burning from the inside out. He swallowed thickly, waiting for her to reply.

       “You need to take better care of yourself.” She scolded and barely kissed his neck.

* * *

 

       The third time Gaby saw Illya topless was after many suggestions from Napoleon and a terribly dangerous mission.

       Fumbling into the shared room, Gaby shut the door dramatically behind Illya and threw her pack to the floor. Her nerves were on edge and she could tell that Illya was exhausted but too proud to show it. His usual indifferent face was replaced by a much less intimidating version and his feet slightly dragged. Gaby had gotten too good at reading him. Probably not as good as overly analytical Napoleon, but at the moment, Napoleon’s over analyzing personality was the only reason they were all alive, so Gaby couldn’t complain.

       Falling onto the couch, Gaby removed the cursed heels on her feet and ripped her hair out of the high ponytail. Illya stood in front of his bed with his back to her as he tore off his blood-soaked shirt and stretched his arms over his head. Gaby watched helplessly.

       Illya felt Gaby’s eyes on him and despite how tired he was, he stretched a little to relieve the soreness in his shoulders. Grabbing a clean white t shirt, he pulled it on and thought about changing his pants in front of Gaby too. Honestly, his obedient Russian voice was too tired to really care, so he pulled his pants down, switching to a softer pair. The only thought he had was that Solo would be proud of him.

       Gaby could definitely tell the mission took a lot out of the Russian when he didn’t even hesitate to fully change in front of her. She quickly averted her eyes as he turned around. Twisting the fake engagement ring on her finger, Gaby stared at her knobby knees while Illya strolled over and plopped down next to her. That was definitely not Illya-like. His head fell back against the couch, exposing his neck. Gaby couldn’t stand it any longer. She stood abruptly and went to change her clothes.

        Illya watched her leave until the she closed the bathroom door. He frowned. Solo’s words about women were contradicting everything that had just happened.  

       When Gaby came back out of the bathroom, strutting over to the vodka in her pinstripe pajamas, Illya was frustrated beyond belief. For what reason, he didn’t know. He just knew that he was so incredibly happy Gaby had made it out of the mission in one piece. I guess he could say the same for Solo too.

        But there was a different tug in his gut when he looked over at Gaby as she began to dance slowly. She took a shot of the vodka and danced over to Illya.

        Swaying side to side, she stood in front of him with a smirk taking over her face. Illya watched her and felt his frustration grow. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his tired hands squeezed his biceps as Gaby danced more after another shot of vodka. He thought back to when she was pushed against him while he warmed up from a fall into an icy pond. His eyes closed for a second. Before he thought it through, his hands reached out and pulled Gaby forward onto his lap. She let out a little gasp and the bottle dropped from her hand, crashing against the floor.

        Gaby fell forward, her face nearly running into the back of couch next to Illya’s head before her hands caught her. His hands had lifted her knees onto either side of his legs as she pushed herself up, making him tilt his head up at her. Her heart crashed against her ribs as his hand pulled her down into a kiss. Gaby didn’t react for a second before she finally realized that she actually very much liked this. Smiling into the kiss, Gaby relaxed into his lap and let her hands run through his blonde hair. Allowing his fingers to undo the buttons to the front of her top, Gaby let it fall to the floor as she reached for the hem of his shirt. Breaking off their kiss, Illya eagerly took off the shirt and pulled her closer with an arm gripped around her waist.

        Gaby’s hands fell to his neck and ran down his shoulders to rest at the front of his chest. Her hands froze there and she pulled away from him. Illya gave her a quizzical look when she leaned back to look at his chest. Her fingers ran along the huge scar along his collarbone and she bit her lip, glancing back up at his blue eyes.

       “I wish I could heal them all.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

       Illya didn’t say a word as he brushed her hair out of her face. Leaning down, Gaby pressed light kisses to the scar, then began kissing across and down his chest. Illya closed his eyes. Thank god the Russian in him was silent. It would’ve made him back out by now.

       Wrapping an arm around her waist, Illya pushed against the back of the couch with his other arm and stood up slowly. Gaby clenched her small legs around his waist and pressed her lips back to his. As they fell to the bed, Illya knew that Gaby was unable to fix all his scars, but she could at least fix the rest of him.


End file.
